A Song of degrees.
Unto thee lift I up mine eyes, O thou that dwellest in the heavens. Behold, as the eyes of servants \look\ unto the hand of their masters, \and\ as the eyes of a maiden unto the hand of her mistress; so our eyes \wait\ upon the LORD our God, until that he have mercy upon us. Have mercy upon us, O LORD, have mercy upon us: for we are exceedingly filled with contempt. Our soul is exceedingly filled with the scorning of those that are at ease, \and\ with the contempt of the proud.